Chapter 36
“I know that much myself.”
Priana replied curtly.
At least when it came to swordsmanship, she believed she was far more advanced than me.
And she wasn’t wrong — my swordsmanship rank was lower, and if we fought now, I’d lose.
But that’s only in terms of rank. When it comes to pure technique, I might actually be the superior one.
No — I am sure of it. The experience I’ve gained on countless battlefields is not something that can be measured by rank alone.
“Do you really believe that?”
“…What do you mean by that, sir?”
Her body, honed through a lifetime at the Zenith Knight Academy, stiffened at what she must’ve thought was an absurd question.
To her, swordsmanship was swordsmanship rank.
The higher the rank, the greater one’s skill with the blade — that was the unquestioned truth of this world.
“If a knight’s strength is determined solely by rank, then why do battles between those of the same rank still have winners and losers?”
“Because one is closer to advancing to the next rank, of course.”
“Right. Then if someone is almost at the next rank, can they fight on par with someone who’s just reached it?”
“Well…”
Priana frowned, her thoughts tangling as if I’d just said something nonsensical.
It was natural — everyone assumed that higher ranks always won.
But let’s break it down simply:
Someone who just reached Rank 4 and someone who’s almost Rank 5 — the system doesn’t show it, but there’s a gap there.
That’s why battles have winners and losers, why life and death are decided.
But what about someone almost Rank 5 versus someone who’s just become Rank 5?
Numerically, there’s almost no difference between them.
A 4 that’s infinitely close to 5 is practically a 5.
But not in this world.
In this world, rank is absolute.
“A lower rank can never defeat a higher one.”
No matter how skilled a Rank 4 is, they cannot beat a Rank 5.
It’s as if an invisible wall separates them — the first wall, and the final wall.
So what I was trying to say was—
“I don’t understand what you’re getting at.”
“Swordsmanship rank and swordsmanship itself are two different things.”
“…What?”
Priana’s mouth snapped shut in disbelief.
She didn’t even bother to argue.
To her, it was the ravings of a delusional noble brat.
Her eyes said it all — this guy’s insane.
“Ridiculous…”
Her lips pressed tightly together, her expression incredulous.
Of course — I was denying everything she’d learned and bled for over the years.
Accepting it wouldn’t be easy.
Then I’ll just have to show her.
“Catch.”
I tossed her a necklace with a small glowing stone attached.
Priana caught it effortlessly, and the stone began to emit a soft light.
“What is this?”
“A low-grade luminous stone. I’m sure you know what it’s for.”
She did.
Such stones were often used for what’s called a guided duel.
Because when knights dueled while releasing their aura recklessly, it often led to injuries — or worse, death.
To prevent that, guided duels were used.
The higher-ranked knight suppresses their aura and fights only with the blade, while wearing a luminous stone that absorbs mana.
If the stone glows, it means aura was released — and that person loses.
The Zenith Knight Academy used this method often for training.
Can’t have noble heirs getting injured, after all.
And not once in the academy’s history had a higher-ranked knight ever lost to a lower one, even without using aura.
Higher ranks were simply stronger — they’d easily overpower the cadets.
“Are you suggesting a guided duel with me, sir?”
“Exactly. With one added rule — whoever’s stone lights up first, loses.”
“…Are you serious?”
Priana’s expression said, Has this crazy noble lost his mind?
Her rank was higher — by common sense, that meant her swordsmanship was better too.
And usually, that was true.
Unless you’d lost an arm and become a cripple, no one was skilled with the sword yet ranked lower.
“I don’t want to humiliate you, but…”
A deep crease formed on her brow.
She probably thought I was mocking her now — spouting nonsense and challenging her to a fight on top of it.
There’s a simple way to deal with that.
“What’s wrong? You scared?”
“……”
“Then don’t worry about it. I’ll call a carriage to take you home.”
“Hmm…”
She hesitated, not because she feared losing — but because she was debating whether or not it was acceptable to beat me up.
The “mad young lord” of the house wasn’t exactly someone you could just knock around freely.
She probably can’t even imagine losing to me.
“Well? I’m busy, you know.”
“…Don’t regret this.”
“Heh. Good.”
Predictably stubborn, she took the bait easily.
Priana reluctantly placed the necklace around her neck.
She closed her eyes, took a breath — and the luminous stone dimmed to darkness.
Then she drew her sword and took her stance.
Unlike before, no mana surged around her.
The stone stayed dark.
“Then I’ll do the same.”
The rule was simple: whoever’s stone lights up first, loses.
Mine probably wouldn’t glow no matter what, but fair’s fair.
The faint light of my stone flickered once, then went out completely.
That’s the difference between the first and second wall.
For Priana, mana overflowed naturally. For me, it took everything I had just to summon an aura blade.
But that suited me just fine.
Now I didn’t need to worry about the stone — I could focus on the fight.
We stood across from each other in the silent training ground, blades drawn.
Priana still looked reluctant — hesitant to fight someone weaker.
Too bad for her, she wouldn’t have the luxury of holding back for long.
“I’ll start.”
“…As you wish.”
Still not even a hint of tension.
I swung lightly — a simple horizontal slash from left to right.
She deflected it casually.
‘If it were that easy, I wouldn’t have bothered challenging you.’
Clack!
I twisted my wrist mid-swing, and the blade curved sharply, snaking toward her abdomen like a serpent.
Clang!
“Hm?”
A surprised grunt escaped her lips — not because she was in danger, but because she hadn’t expected that angle.
Still, she parried with ease.
To her, it was just trickery.
A flashy but shallow move — not real swordsmanship.
‘We’ll see about that.’
“Hup.”
I inhaled sharply, gathering every ounce of strength in my limbs.
The stone remained dark.
This was pure muscle — no mana, no aura.
My body screamed, but I pressed on.
The gap in rank was real, but I had something else — years of life-and-death combat experience.
Crack!
My next strike came down fast — faster and heavier than before.
Clang!
She blocked the first blow.
The second — she tried to parry, but I twisted again, the blade changing trajectory mid-swing.
Clack!
Of course, she noticed immediately — a true second-wall knight would.
Third strike. Fourth.
Each blow sharper, the angles more unpredictable.
“…Hyaah!”
She finally stepped in and launched her counterattack.
Her blade cut horizontally in a textbook-perfect arc — pure, classic swordsmanship straight from the academy manuals.
Fast, precise — just like a “Knight of the Swift Blade” should be.
But that’s all it was — a single, ordinary slash without aura.
If she’d used her full strength, I’d have been cleaved in two.
Clang!
But I’ve survived worse — battlefields where “limbs” weren’t even enough to count the dead.
Blocking one swing? Easy.
“Wha—?”
She froze, shocked that her swiftest strike had been stopped so effortlessly.
“Is that all?”
Crack!
“…No!”
With her pride wounded, she attacked again — and again.
But every strike was aura-less, and every strike was blocked.
Her sword grew faster, sharper, angrier — but still, it wasn’t enough.
Clang! Clang!
Every attack deflected like it was nothing.
As expected from someone so disciplined — she refused to use aura even under pressure.
‘Not a bad person, this one.’
That made her all the more valuable.
Even as her pride was trampled by a so-called “mad noble,” she still kept her word.
Most would’ve snapped and drawn aura by now.
Her eyes burned with fighting spirit. Perfect.
“Heh heh…”
“Ugh…!”
It had been so long since I felt this rush.
No matter how hard I hit, she wouldn’t die — she was stronger than me, after all.
All I had to do was test myself.
See how far this body had come.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The air was filled with streaks of silver.
Then — I saw it.
A tiny opening at her left shoulder.
For a moment, I hesitated — then remembered who I was dealing with.
To break her stubborn pride, I’d need to take the gamble.
Here goes.
Crack!
The ground beneath her feet cracked as I lunged forward.
My sword aimed straight for that opening—
Clang!
“Tch.”
The Dragonfang Sword clattered from my hand, skidding across the floor.
As expected from a future Knight Commander — she’d blocked it in the nick of time.
But—
Bang!
“Haah… haah…”
Blue aura flickered around Priana’s blade.
Her luminous stone shone the same color.
‘See? That’s the thing about ranks — they’re broken.’
She’d instinctively summoned aura at the last instant to block.
In a real fight, my head would be gone.
“Wha—how… how is this possible…?”
“Remember the rule?”
“……”
She stared blankly at her glowing sword, unable to comprehend what had just happened.
She, a higher-ranked knight, had lost a duel of pure swordsmanship to someone ranked lower.
‘Gods, I’m exhausted.’
I tried to look composed, but my body was screaming in pain.
Still, I kept my tone steady.
“I’m Rank 4. Yet I won with the sword.”
“Ah…”
“So — do you still think sword rank equals swordsmanship?”
“……”
Priana couldn’t answer.
“Rank matters, sure. In this damned world, it’s everything. But…”
“…”
Even through her turmoil, she listened intently.
But I hesitated.
Was it time to tell her what I really knew? The truth behind the ranks?
‘…Not yet.’
She wouldn’t believe me anyway.
So I simplified it.
“If you want to reach a higher realm, stop obsessing over rank. Refine the sword itself — not just the routine you’ve been taught.”
“……”
Clang.
Priana dropped her sword. Her expression shifted — as if she’d finally glimpsed something deeper.
“My lord… You are unlike anyone I have ever met.”
“Heh. I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.”
Coming from her, of all people — someone who’d met Aaron Gold II himself — it was quite the compliment.
I walked over to her and said,
“So? Have you decided to serve me yet?”
“…Yes.”
She knelt on one knee and bowed deeply.
“My name is Priana Arna. From this day forth, I shall serve you.”
In response, I rested my sword on her shoulder.
“From this day forward, you are a knight of House Impera.”
“Thank you.”
Got her!
She might’ve broken her oath to Aaron Gold II, but still — this was huge.
Like pulling an S-rank card from a gacha pull.
I fought to hide the grin tugging at my lips and patted her shoulder.
“A new knight deserves a reward. That substitute knight I mentioned before — soon, I’ll arrange a duel between you two. Until then, I’ll personally teach you what real swordsmanship is.”
“Truly? Thank you, my lord!”
Priana’s eyes brimmed with tears of gratitude.
A rematch between Creed and Priana — it would happen, no doubt.
And when Creed came for me in fury, that would be her moment to fight.
‘It’d be nice if Priana won… but Creed’s Creed, so probably not.’
Well, I’ll deal with that later.
For now, it was time to enjoy this victory.
“He might be a little stronger, but till then, you’ll have to make do with me. We’ll both gain something from it.”
“Yes! I’ll give you everything I have, my lord!”
Just like that, I had someone to spar with — a real upper-rank knight.
Trading blows with one was a rare and valuable opportunity.
Done properly, it could even help me rank up.
That’s how nobles and royals advanced — by using stronger opponents for growth.
Heh.
A sly grin crept up my face, while Priana, unaware, was simply overwhelmed with emotion.
